A Man Needs His Rest
by Arisprite
Summary: "Who knew that floating on a piece of driftwood for three weeks, with no food or water, and sea vultures waiting to pluck our your liver could make you so tense?" Set between seasons 1 and 2, during those three weeks Zuko and Iroh floated. Rated T, gen
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I've been quite absent on here lately, sorry about that. Avatar has taken over my brain, so forgive me for keeping you all waiting on my Holmes stuff. It will happen, I just don't know when. Thanks for your patience!

About this story, I can't believe there hasn't been more about this point in the series. Iroh let one little line slip about being stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean for _three weeks _and I can't find any fic about it. Shame fandom! How could you pass up a chance to torture our favorite scarred prince? In truth, I owe the idea of this fic to Vathara, who wrote **Embers **(check it out, it's brilliant!) I didn't take much, but she mentioned the weeks on the raft being especially difficult, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I also took an idea from CollaneR's **Around the Fountain **

This will be the first in a few chapters, and yes it's a beast. The other chapters probably won't be as long. Though, since I haven't written any more, this may be the end for a while. We'll see. Let me know what you think!

Ari

* * *

Chapter 1

_A man needs his rest_, his uncle had said. Zuko had lain down with just that intention. After the destruction wreaked by the Ocean Spirit and the Avatar had ended, there was a deathly silence across the whole North Pole. His uncle had found him within the walls of the capital, and they'd just…run. Run because their lives depended on it. Because the Ocean Spirits rampage was still scarring the inside of Zuko's eyelids…

_Take my hand!_

…and he couldn't catch his breath. Iroh kept glancing at him, but there was nothing he could do for him now, not while they were still in the city. Water benders, who'd been awed and cowed by the giant water spirit, would have no qualms about killing two fire benders left within their fortress.

They needed a way out.

They were lucky to find the remains of a wooden catamaran to float on, and the wreckage of the Fire Navy ships was free to salvage supplies from.

_If you ignored the bodies…_

Yes they'd been lucky for once. They weren't floating in the water, crusted white with frost.

Zuko tried to count the hours backwards, since the time he'd ducked the Spirit's grasping arm. He _ducked_ and Zhao had…

_A snarl, and Zhao pulled his arm back, deliberately out of reach._

…been taken to the depths.

Uncle had found a red sail, and Zuko felt more at ease under the colors of his home county. They'd dug through the broken hull of a Navy ship that had been beached on the shore, finding the sail, rope, and an empty tub, which they would use to store water. Anything else was too much to carry, and Uncle was sure they could catch fish and birds for food until they hit land.

As long as they had water…

He recalled the time when an infestation of poison frog-leech larvae had gotten into almost all of the water barrels on board his ship, while they were over a week out from landfall. They'd had to ration the remaining droplets very carefully, and tempers ran dangerously high for a ship full of fire benders. But the main problem was that though their supplies of food were untouched, eating the dried meat and heavy biscuits that were their main fare left the men with cramped stomachs, and twisted guts. Zuko knew that eating too much without a good supply of water was a bad idea.

Uncle manned the sail, nudging them south-eastwards. He could feel the sun rising towards the nose of the craft. _Well, what nose there is on a square raft, anyway._ There wasn't much to do. He should be resting, like Iroh'd said. He'd been up for..._how many hours?_ He could vaguely remember two sunrises, and he didn't think he'd slept since before the first.

Spirits, no wonder his thoughts were bouncing around his skull, like Ty Lee in an especially good mood.

_I wonder how she's doing…_ They'd been friends, of a sort. When she wasn't practicing her chi-blocking on him, under Azula's orders.

Back to how long he'd been awake and _fighting_. He left Uncle on the ship at dawn. It had taken him most of that day to infiltrate the fortress. He shivered against the wooden boards. If he never saw ice again, it'd be too soon. His half hooded eyes registered the floes that surrounded them. _Right…_

Then at nightfall he'd begun moving again. Maybe he fell asleep before that, while waiting? Zuko couldn't remember. It would have been nice if he had. Because after that, he was fighting Katara.

That was the second sunrise.

Struggling with the Avatar then, across the ice flats outside the city. Running just…away. Hiding again, in a cave. He didn't sleep that time. Watching the Avatar breath was tense enough. Those glowing eyes…

The Avatar woke, and blew him into a wall _again_. He escaped. Things were a little fuzzy then. He'd been unconscious, did that count for sleep? He woke and slipped away, while his Uncle and Zhao had been talking about the Moon Spirit. Followed Zhao. _Ducked_.

And now today. Third dawn.

"Forty eight hours." He murmured.

"What was that, my nephew?" Iroh asked, glancing over at Zuko's pale and beaten face. Those bruises still looked nasty, and he was sure there were more wounds from the explosion alone under the white winter gear; there'd been no time to check while on board Zhao's ship, and after…

Zuko's head lolled towards him, eyes heavy lidded and sunken in dark rings.

"That's how long I've been awake. Unless you count when I was blacked out from Katara's ice pillar. Which I don't. Because that wasn't fair, and unconscious is different from sleep…" He trailed off. Iroh felt a surge of alarm. Zuko had been unconscious? When, and for how long? Was this just exhaustion or a more serious injury in Zuko's uncharacteristic babbling? Iroh resolved to keep and eye on him.

Not that he had anywhere else to go, on this raft. . He sure was grateful for the time he'd spent observing the Water Tribe sailors all those years ago. Though Zuko had spent the last few years at sea, Iroh was sure he didn't know the first thing about sailing with the wind. Well, they'd have time now.

Zuko rolled over with a muffled groan, curling in a limp ball on his side. His eyes were closed now, and Iroh began to hope he'd fallen asleep. Agni knows, the poor boy needed it. His hopes were dashed a moment later.

"Uncle?"

"Yes, Prince Zuko," Iroh said, trying off the knot in the sail, and sitting down near Zuko with a sigh.

"When the Ocean Spirit took Zhao, I tried to help him." Zuko's lone brow furrowed over his closed eyes. "He wouldn't take my hand."

_Oh, my nephew._ Zuko had told him in terse sentences what had happened to Zhao as they'd fled from the city. That he'd ducked was the only explanation for Tui missing him. But, of course, his kindhearted Zuko had reached out, and been rebuffed.

"A sad fact is that sometimes a man's pride is more important to him than his life." Iroh murmured, wishing he could gather up his nephew in his arms and let him bury his sorrow in the folds of Iroh's robes, where the fabric would soak up the tears with almost no evidence. But, alas, that was many many years ago. He settled for a gentle touch to Zuko's shoulder. "You tried to save him. There was nothing more you could do if he refused to accept."

Zuko nodded, eyes still closed.

A few moments of silence later, and Zuko's body slowly went limp in sleep.

Iroh sighed in relief. Yes, it had been nearly that long without sleep for himself as well –his old joints ached in weariness—but he hadn't been fighting for his life, let alone narrowly escaping angry Spirits. He'd let his nephew sleep as long as he would.

In the meantime, Iroh shifted to half crawl, half walk towards the mast of their little raft, heading towards where their meager supplies were stored. A metal box (water tight, he hoped) a few lengths of sail, plus what was already flying, rope to lash it all down, the small supply bag that was tied to Zuko's belt, with his knife, a few dried biscuits, and some jerky. It wouldn't go far.

First things first. Now that they were on the correct course, sailing South-East, around the far side of the Earth Kingdom, towards the Fire Nation colonies on the south side of the continent, he could go about making their vessel a little more seaworthy. A rope tied from the mast to the side –stepping _carefully_ over his slumbering nephew—plus a part of the remaining sail made an effective shelter from the sun. Even fire benders could burn if they were in the sun long enough. The metal box he scrubbed out with sea water, and then tested it to see if it would retain water.

There, a drip from the corner.

Breathing deeply, he gathered his chi into his hands, making heat, but no flame, intense enough to heat the metal. A bit more. The corner glowed red hot, and with his fingers he pinched the edge closed. That should do it. A dunk into the icy water, a hiss and a cloud of steam, and the box was ready to fill.

The drinking water really was the most vital thing to find if they wanted to survive. Since the sky was clear, and the Ocean Spirit was upset at fire benders anyway, he didn't think there would be any rain to collect, or if there was, it'd be in the form of a raging storm bound to kill them, or something else as deadly. No, he'd refrain from wishing for rain.

Ice, however….

The ice bergs were abundant around him, and they were known to be fresh water if they were old enough. They just had to get close enough to gather some of the ice.

* * *

It seemed like he'd only been asleep for a minute or two, with dreams full of massive blue spirits, and glowing eyes, when he was being shaken awake.

"Forgive me, Prince Zuko, but I need your assistance." He blinked up at his uncle's regretful face. "I wanted to let you sleep longer, but I was afraid we'd drift out of range."

Zuko rubbed his good eye, and yawned.

"Out of range…?" Zuko saw the sun slanting downwards (he'd slept all day then?) behind a massive ice burg. Nothing else. There was nothing around to be in range of.

"The ice burg. I'd like to see if we can get some drinking water." His uncle said, standing carefully. The raft was small enough that it would be much too easy to lose your balance and fall overboard. Zuko slowly pulled himself up as well. The sleep and cold had stiffened all the muscles in his body, making his movements painful. And now that his uncle had mentioned water, he suddenly felt like his mouth was full of koala-sheep wool. Licking dry lips, he looked at the blue tinted ice.

"What do we do?" He asked. Uncle Iroh rubbed his chin.  
"That's where I was hoping you'd have some ideas. We need to get close enough to scrape out enough ice to fill the tin."

Zuko looked at the distance between their little raft, and the ice burg, a good 30 feet. Not far, but not close enough. He could have swum the distance, but at the thought of entering the freezing polar water again, he shook in a compulsive shiver. He looked back at their scanty pile of provisions, and frowned.

"There isn't anything we can use as a paddle, is there?"

"Not really, my nephew."

Zuko looked again at the space between their life giving water, and the raft. There was no other choice. He stripped off his outer jacket.

"Nephew?"

"Get that rope." Zuko said, and his uncle complied with a worried frown.

Zuko tied the rope around his middle, his fingers still cold enough to fumble from the last time he'd been submerged in the icy sea. Pulling it tight, he tugged off his boots, and dove…

_Agni! Though perhaps Tui and La would be more appropriate._

The water drove his air away with the shock, but he had the presence of mind not to gasp while under. His head then broke the surface, and he pulled in a shuddering breath, trembling already.

"Are you alright, Prince Zuko?" Uncle called, and Zuko gave him a shaky nod. He began to swim towards the ice burg's least jagged side, the rope trailing after him. When he reached it, he took a moment, breathed, and pushed heat out of his hands. It reminded him horribly of being stuck under that sheet ice under the palace, melting his way out. That had been too close. This time, all he needed were hand holds.

Clawing his way up, using both his hands, and his bare feet, he finally got to the relatively flat top. Zuko shivered again. He'd _really_ hoped to never have to do this again. Two quick breaths, fire curling from his lips, and he was ready to stand. He could feel Uncle's concerned eyes on him, and he didn't want to worry him needlessly.

Zuko grabbed the rope that ran from his waist, now skimming the top of the waves to connect with the edge of their raft. Dug his feet into the ice, heating the spaces under his naked toes to get a better grip. Pulled.

He strained, and heaved, with Uncle dragging on the other end. It was like a massive and freezing game of tug and burn, except, neither of them were going to set the rope on fire, if they could help it. But, there! Was the raft floating closer? He couldn't tell, but he kept pulling regardless, focusing only on the rope and the steady heave that was needed for them to survive.

"Prince Zuko. Zuko!" Zuko blinked. The rope was slack in his hands. "You can stop pulling now." His uncle was mere feet in front of him, chuckling at his surprise.

"We did it?" He asked. Uncle smiled wider.

"You did it, my nephew." Zuko ducked his head, pleasure warming him. "Now help me get this tin full."

Zuko nodded, and scooped out a chunk of ice from the edge, handing it towards his uncle. Iroh shook his head.

"You drink that, you need some water." Zuko frowned.

"So do you." Zuko handed his uncle the ice chunk in his hand, and scooped out a new on for himself. "There."

His uncle chuckled again, and accepted the gift gladly. Zuko could barely wait for the ice to melt enough to drink. Once he'd touched the white chunk to his lips, the droplets that liquefied into his dry mouth were better than all the riches in his father's treasury. He breathed a hot breath out, and caught the resulting water over and over again. It quenched his thirst, but it took _forever_!

Only once both he and Uncle had had two more handfuls of ice did they go about filling the tin box. Zuko was worried about how long it would last them. Once they were out of the ice fields, the only water they'd have to drink would be what they'd saved, plus anything the spirits granted from the sky. Knowing his luck, there wouldn't be much. Maybe they could figure out some way to catch any condensation, to collect the morning frost…that'd help…

Zuko jumped lightly aboard the raft again, grateful beyond belief that he didn't have to swim back, and the pushed away from the life saving ice burg. Zuko tugged his dry boots and outer tunic back on, and then they stood for a moment, watching the glacial mountain grow smaller as they floated away. Zuko turned to his uncle.

"You didn't sleep while I was out, did you?" His uncle grinned sheepishly. "Get some now, I'll keep watch." They both refrained from asking 'for what?'

His uncle settled down under the shelter that had somehow sprung up while he was sleeping. He smiled faintly, and shook his head. Same old Uncle. Zuko then looked around, checking their supplies, and the horizon. _Water? Check. Shelter? Check. Weather? Clear. Food?_ They needed food. True they could go a while without eating; it'd already been a long time since that last pre-dawn breakfast on Zhao's command ship two, three days ago. He couldn't remember.  
As if on cue, his stomach clenched and grumbled. Right, then. Food.

He looked around. Well, there was tons of ocean, which meant tons of fish, right? He scooted to the edge, and leaned out over the side of the raft. Deep, dark water, with not a movement in the depths. Maybe he could make a fishing line. He'd seen the sailors do that loads of times back on his ship. Only, the rope they had was too thick to work, and they didn't have a pole anyway.

Zuko sat back on his heels, glaring at the setting sun. How were they supposed to get out of this? If he turned his head, he could still see the ruins of the fleet, the glittering ice palace, the white land they were fleeing from. Within those walls was the Avatar, everything he'd searched for for three years. And he was sailing away, with scant supplies. Most likely, they'd starve, or die of thirst, or drown before they reached land. Or if they did reach land, it'd be somewhere where their gold eyes and pale skin would get them killed before they were off the boat. Fire Nation weren't welcomed many places. _Imagine that._

He put his head in his hands, grimacing as he hit a tender spot on his shaven head. He rubbed it a little. It wasn't just the lingering bruises that were giving him a headache, he thought. Above them, sea birds soared and dipped, free and careless. _Like someone else I know._ Their high pitched calls grated on his nerves, and he glowered at them. _Fat and happy, not a worry in the world…wait, fat?_

The sailors had eaten sea bird meat occasionally. It was tough, and stringy, but they'd made a game of luring them down, and grabbing them. He put a hand to his belt, to the little supply bag he'd almost forgotten about. The young prince pulled out a half crumbled ship's biscuit. Perfect.

Clicking his tongue, the way he'd seen the sailors do, he spread the crumbs on the flat surface of the raft, and retreated into the edge of their shelter to crouch in wait. The bird activity increased, at least it seemed that way to his eager ears. Still it was over a half and hour before the first gull swooped down and landed cautiously. It was then that Zuko realized in horror that he had nothing to catch the bird with! What did he expect to do, wrestle it with his bare hands? _Bare hands…oh __**stupid**_!

By this time there were three birds strutting around the raft as if they own the place, pecking at the crumbs. He took careful aim, and then leveled three short fire blasts at the birds, sending the smell of burnt feathers into the air. They flopped to the floor of the boat, except one, which was too close to edge, and slipped into the water.

Zuko swore, and dived forwards, trying to catch it before it sank too far. He had his fingers almost into the water when suddenly large jaws reach up, a hair's breadth from his finger tips, and snapped up the gull.

Zuko snatched his hand back, and scrambled backwards from the water, gasping. _Spirits, what __**was**__ that_? There was something large and carnivorous under their boat, something, that if it had jaws large enough to chomp a gull in one bite, would probably dearly love human! Oh Agni…

Shaking himself, and staying far from the edge, Zuko gather the two birds he had left, and began to prepare them for dinner. Or at least, he tried to. He was relatively sure that one didn't eat birds with the feathers still on them, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how to get them _off. _Pulling on them only resulted in a handful of down, and didn't show any noticeable difference in the bird's plumage at all. He tried burning the feathers off, while trying not to cook the skin. It was the same principle a lot of people, including himself, used to shave after all. But it turned out that hair was different from feathers, and that burning them only left the ends as hard little nubs in the skin.

It was better than nothing though.

He then skinned and gutted the birds with his ivory handled knife, pushing the entrails to one side. Again the attempt wasn't perfect, but he knew the general idea. He tried not to think of Azula and her "games" with small animals when they were children….

Finally, he had raw, glistening bird meat lying on the corner of the extra sail fabric, ready to cook. He guessed there was only one way to go about this part. He gingerly picked up the meat and directed a slow flame up through his palms, lowering the heat when he thought it was starting to burn.

As he'd thought, the smell of the roasting meat caused his uncle to stir. He blinked, rubbed his eyes in the dim light, and then looked in amazement at Zuko's spread. Raw meat sat in front of him, there was a gloppy pile of bird innards to one side, and feathers floated everywhere. But in the center, with a proud almost smile on his face, holding sizzling gull meat cupped in his hands was his resourceful nephew.

Zuko felt the pride in his uncle's gaze, and flushed, then concentrated on the meat in his hands again. He wanted to get it just right for his uncle.

Once the meat was fully cooked, if a little blackened, Zuko offered it to his uncle.

"I got us some food." He said. Iroh took the greasy meat, and smiled at Zuko.

"Well done my nephew. I see that three years among the sailors has rubbed off on you."

Zuko smirked as he picked up the meat from the other bird, and began to cook it for himself. "They'd be so proud." He said dryly. Then he sobered. "Do you think they survived?"

Iroh frowned. Bowed his head. "If they were smart, they would have turned the boats as soon as they saw the Avatar's glow. They know what it can do." Iroh looked at Zuko's downcast face, and saw genuine grief there. "Lieutenant Jee was made a Captain of his own ship. He would have turned. It's possible they survived."

"I hope so."

The meat was good, if a little crunchy from the occasional feather nub that Zuko had missed. Iroh was very impressed with Zuko's creative capture of the birds. He face grew darker, however, when Zuko told him about the creature that'd eaten one of the birds.

"Its jaws were big enough to take my hand off, Uncle. And I think it's still around." The strange ripples he'd seen every now and then had to have been caused by something.

Uncle pondered for a moment. "We shall have to be very careful, I think. Perhaps the bird that fell sated it's appetite for tonight. I feel we should continue to give it portions of our catches, and perhaps it won't feel the need to try for things a little bigger, like ourselves."

"It's not a spirit, Uncle. It's not going to leave us alone because we give it offerings. At best it will follow us all the way to the colonies because we keep feeding it!"

Uncle hummed, thinking. "We shall see." He then yawned, and stretched. "Now, I think, we should both go to sleep. You didn't sleep nearly enough this afternoon, and I could use some more too. Things will look better in the sunlight.

They both cupped a handful of the ice from inside their metal box. The air wasn't warming yet, but even as it did the further south they got, the metal would keep their water supply insulated and cool, which was a blessing. Sipping the melting water slowly, Iroh examined his nephew. Zuko had shown his character today, both in the palace with Zhao and on the raft. Never before had seen how few the similarities between his brother and nephew, and how many there were with Zuko's mother. Away from the influences of the fire court, namely his father and sister, Zuko had grown stronger, and surer of himself. Iroh only hoped he'd begin trusting himself more and his father's word less. Ah, well, in time.

After finishing the ice water, Zuko and his uncle lay down, each half under the shelter. Zuko could see the stars from where he lay. He'd always loved the way you could see the stars when you were at sea; no trees, no lights, no buildings. Just stars, and ocean and you. The badger-mole clawed the ground, next to the twisting dragon. There was the mother platypus bear and her baby following her to the west. The Avatar even had a constellation. It was just a cluster of stars that no amount of staring or head turning could make look like a person, but he'd always noted it. Sometimes it had seemed like that was the closest he'd ever come to seeing the Avatar.

_Wrong train of thought…_

It was peaceful out here. Right here, right now. Not thinking about tomorrow, or the fact that they're stuck on a raft in the middle of an arctic ocean, with some unknown creature under them. They were just floating. His uncle already snored next to him, and Zuko let the familiar sound lull him to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"Let me take a look at your wounds, Prince Zuko."

Zuko turned towards his uncle, away from the glare of the sun on the waves, and frowned. They'd both awakened at dawn, as per normal, and with little else to do, Zuko had been just staring at the horizon. His thoughts were filled enough to keep him company for days, it seemed. He couldn't get the previous day (_days? weeks.) _out of his mind. He'd been content to let the silence drag out, accenting the splash of the waves, and the cry of the gulls. Evidently his uncle was not.

"I'm fine, Uncle." Zuko said, wearily.

"Zuko, if the wounds on your face were the most of the damage sustained from that explosion, then I'd have counted myself a blessed uncle. But somehow, I know that is not the case." Iroh raised an eyebrow. Zuko sighed. His Uncle wasn't asking a question. In truth, he knew the full extent of his injuries even better than Zuko himself did. It had been Uncle who'd found his limp body lying on the shore of the bay, surrounded by the wreckage of his ship, and bleeding from various cuts and scrapes. Uncle had sewn up the deepest of the jagged lines spider-webbing over his shoulders and back, and he'd ignored the bruises as he always did.

Though the fight with the Waterbender hadn't been pleasant...

Zuko sighed, and started pulling off the layers of silk that had been soaked and dried via firebending too many times over the last few days-they were starting to hold their shape. He winced at the movement. _It was fine when I wasn't thinking about it... _ He also wasn't entirely sure that some of the stitches hadn't ripped at any point during the two days of fighting.

When Zuko knelt bare chested in front of Iroh, the retired general sighed internally in long-suffering. He'd seen much _much_ worse in his days in the army, but his nephew had a penchant for acquiring scrapes and bruises like no other child he knew. It had been a sore point between his brother and nephew as long as Zuko was walking. It wasn't that Zuko was clumsy, or intentionally got into dangerous situations, things just _happened_ to him.

This particular time, however, the cuts on his nephews back weren't caused by a childhood mishap, though Zuko was young enough that in an ideal world he'd only _have_ to worry about simple accidents. But, no, Zuko's adversaries on all sides were much more deadly, and for that Iroh mourned.

"Uncle?" Zuko was twisting around, his concerned voice broke his thought, and Iroh shook free of his musing. This was not the time to sorrow for days never to be.

"Pardon me, my nephew. I got distracted by the joyful flight of that sea-bird. It's good to remember that in times of sorrow, there can always be found something that brings happiness." Iroh covered his inattention sagely. Zuko almost certainly rolled his eyes...but no, his nephew would never to that to his beloved Uncle!

Iroh knelt down on their wobbly craft, and eyed the sutures in Zuko's back closely. They seemed to have healed well, though some had smears of blood that told of a rip before it closed up again. But nothing was bleeding now, and Iroh didn't have the instruments to do anything more. He glanced at their horizons, and hoped they'd reach land, and friendly land at that before Zuko's stitches had to come out. Though there remained the question of what land was friendly to him? He and Zuko both had fought Zhao, a man at the North Pole on a mission from the Fire Lord himself, and he'd helped the other side (those too young teenagers...) By all rights, he was a traitor to the Fire Nation.

But that was neither here nor there now. Now their concern was survival, and that including making sure Zuko was healthy enough to cope with a possibly long voyage.

Zuko shivered at the water Uncle used to clean his wounds, then winced as he felt the salty ocean make its way into the cuts. The salt would keep it clean, but it stung awfully.

Uncle Iroh finished tying the knots on the ragged bandages, and sat back with a satisfied sigh. Zuko, once war-roughened fingers were no longer tugging painfully, lay down to stare at the sky.

"Uncle?" Iroh looked over at his nephew, limp as a new born colt on the raft surface.

"Nephew?"

There was a long silence, as if Zuko hadn't realized he'd even spoken aloud, and now had to organize his thoughts.

"Will we get out of this?" He finally asked, and Iroh frowned. It wasn't like Zuko to entertain thoughts of not making it. He'd taken the message on the knife Iroh'd gifted him as a motto for his life, and it served him well. To see him without that determination was...disturbing. Iroh hadn't even realized how much he depended on knowing that his nephew would never give up without a fight.

"Of course we will, Prince Zuko." He turned to the south east, the direction of land. "We'll hit the Western edge of the Earth Kingdom soon." Iroh winced as the words came out. They were untruths, and if it was one thing Zuko could always tell, was when someone was patronizing him.

Sure enough, his nephew sat up, staring at him incredulously.

"Uncle, it took us over a week to sail to the North Pole in Zhao's _steam powered warship_. We're drifting on a raft. There's no way we'll make it in a _few days_! We'll be lucky to survive long enough to ever see land again!" Zuko didn't add that he did not think very highly of his luck at the best of times. He'd told the Avatar that he had always had to work and fight to get what he wanted, but out here...there was nothing to do but drift.

Uncle came over, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Zuko, sometimes life-"

"None of your proverbs, Uncle!" Zuko stood, grabbing the mast, wanting to pace, but lacking the space. The fact only served to make him more upset. He breathed a burst of flame upwards, startling a sea bird that had been perched on the tip of the sail. Iroh had his eyebrow raised, but calmly waited out his nephew's rage. True enough, a moment later, Zuko slumped back to the deck and glared at the sparkling water.

Then he blinked, noticing the water's movements. It wasn't quite normal looking...in fact, it looked as if something was moving it from below. Something large.

"Uncle..."

"It's alright, Nephew, I realize that this is a stressful time-"

Zuko shook his head, not moving his eyes off the strange, displaced waves. "No, Uncle, look!" He pointed. Iroh came over to look, putting a hand on the mast for balance. What he saw made his eyes widen. Clear lines in the waves as if being sliced by a blade, a suggestion of a fin swishing in the water.

"What is it?" Zuko asked, remembering the _something_ that had grabbed the dead bird yesterday.

"I believe it is our follower from yesterday, hungry for another bite to eat." Iroh mused. "Perhaps if we offer another morsel, it will find us less appealing."

Zuko nearly slapped his own forehead in frustration. "Uncle, feeding it will only make it follow us longer." Zuko stood, raising a fist. "We need to scare it away, so it doesn't eat anything we could hunt."

"No, Zuko!" Iroh grabbed his nephews arm, preventing Zuko from blasting the creature.

"What's the matter with you? That thing is dangerous!" Zuko yelled, pointing at the rippling waves.

"I'm not so sure about that."

"What do you-"

Zuko's words died in his throat, and his eyes widened. The rippling water had parted as he spoke, revealing the animal for the first time. With a burst of spray, and a bubbling snort, the creature erupted from the ocean about 30 feet from their bobbing raft. It was larger than Zuko had imagined, about 15 or 20 feet long, with black and white markings covering it's body. Inside it's mouth were the large, sharp looking teeth that he'd seen gobble up the bird in one bite. The mouth itself looked to be big enough for Zuko to climb inside...

Beside him, his uncle had his mouth open in awe. "A panda-shark! I never thought I seen one outside of books and tales."

At that moment, the panda-shark turned towards them, the wake from the turn cause waves to splash over the edge of the deck. Zuko and Iroh yelled in fear at the giant monster bearing down on them.


End file.
